Imagine
by Lilly Hope Holmes
Summary: Imagine a world where you're born knowing the name of your soulmate. But here's the catch, you only know the first name. Sherlock, John, Mycroft, and Greg have all struggled with this since childhood. Being gay was one thing, having a soulmate with a name so common as John or Greg, or as ridiculous as Sherlock or Mycroft was another. Johnlock and Mystrade, obviously. :1


**Sorry for the terrible quality, this was written while I was still half asleep.**

 **I OWN NOTHING! SOME SCENES MAY BE QUOTED JUST BECAUSE I WANT THIS AS REAL AS POSSIBLE!**

 **BACKGROUND FOR STORY!**

Imagine living in a world where you are born with the knowledge of your soulmate's name. But only their first.

FADES IN TO SHERLOCK AND MYCROFT AS TEENAGERS

"How the hell am I supposed to find someone named John? Do you know how many guys are named John?" Sherlock asked Mycroft, annoyed.

"Do you honestly think that 'Greg' is any easier to find?" Mycroft retorted cooly.

~John~

I was talking to my mate, Greg. I had zoned out a bit... I was busy thinking about my soulmate...

"John?" I snapped out of my haze.

"Hmmm? Sorry, I didn't hear you..."

"That's alright, mate. I asked what your soulmate's name is." He asked. I seemed to detect a trace of hope in his voice.

"Well, first you should probably know that it's a guy..." I said. He sighed,

"Thank god! I thought I was the only one..."

"You too?"

"Yeah."

"Mine has the weirdest name." We both said at the same time.

"No way, I bet mine's weirder." He said.

"Give it a shot."

"Mycroft." He said blushing.

"Wow, that is weird, mine's Sherlock."

"Well, I'll keep an eye out!" He laughed and hurried off to his next class.

~time skip~ To the war~

"John! We have another one!" I hurried to get the injured man to a cot and heal his wound.

"Dr. Watson, if I don't make it-"

"No, you will live. You have to." I looked at the name, Jim. Damn, when was I going to find a Sherlock.

~skip~

"Mycroft, he's in danger, I can feel it." I said into the reciever.

"Sherlock, calm down. I know you're anxious about this, just let it be. Come to London. You can find a flat somewhere and there's bound to be someone named John."

"Uh huh, and what if he's here? I have to be sure, Mycroft."

~skip~ After the war~

I met up with an old friend, Mike Stamford, while walking around in London, hobbling around with this wretched cane.

"Who would want to share a flat with me?" Mike smirked,

"You're the second person to say that to me today."

"Who was the first?" Could it be...? No. I doubt it.

~skip~

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee?" Molly asked me.

"Black, two sugars please, I'll be upstairs." I went upstairs and returned to my expirament.

The door opened and two men walked in. Mike Stamford and another man, obviously a friend asking about a flat share.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine." Not true, the signal was perfectly fine, I wanted to get at this man's phone to see who he was.

"What's wrong with a landline?" He asked

"I prefer to text." I said. I knew he didn't have it.

"Sorry, it's in my coat." Yes!

"Here, use mine." The man spoke up.

"Oh, thank you." I said.

"This is an old friend of mine, John Watson." Mike said.

What? John Watson? John? Could it be /the/ John? I took the phone calmly and sent the text that needed to be sent.

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" I asked.

"Sorry?" He asked.

"Which was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?" He shifted a bit, god that's cute... No! You don't know for sure yet.

"Sorry, how did you..."

"Ah! Molly, coffee! Thank you." I didn't want him to think me a freak just yet.

"What happened to the lipstick?"

"It wasn't working for me..."

"Really? I thought it was a big improvement... your mouth is too small now..."

"Okay..." She left then. Poor Molly... She knows we aren't soulmates yet she still tries...

"How do you feel about the violin?" I asked John. Mike was smirking knowingly. He found this exchange quite amusing.

"I'm sorry what?" John asked me.

"I play the violin when I'm thinking, sometimes I don't talk for days on end... Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other" I smiled, trying to be reassuring but I think I only freaked him out more...

"Oh, you-you told him about me..." He looked at Mike.

"Not a word." Mike said, looking at a blood sample I had taken.

"Then who said anything about flatmates?" He asked. He needs to be a bit quicker...

"I did. I told Mike this morning that i must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. It was no difficult leap."

"How did you know about Afghanistan?" He asked. Honestly... I have to admit, he's smarter than most but maybe not smart enough...

"I've got my eye on a nice little place in central London, together we aught to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, 7:00. Sorry, gotta dash, I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." I started to leave.

"Is that it?" he asked.

"Is that what?" I turned around.

"We've only just met and we're going to go look at a flat."

"Problem?" Oh no... Am I too weird...?

"We don't know a thing about each other, I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name." YEEEES SHOW OFF TIME

"I know you're an army doctor and you've been sent home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help, you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife aand I know your therapist thinks your limp is psychosymmatic, quite correctly I'm afraid. Thaat's enough to be going o with don't you think?" Oh lord... Did I show off too much?

Nah. "The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker's street." I winked and left. WOO that felt good.

~John~

Holy. Shit.

 **WOOO YEAAAH!**

 **~LHH**


End file.
